


Changes

by yozra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Little Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, Spoilers on Chapter 381
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra
Summary: Sometimes, Akaashi gets sentimental.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji
Comments: 18
Kudos: 216





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in April, around half a year before the current match.

After attending two parties in one night, one the official company welcome party, the other an unofficial afterparty, Akaashi helped steer his coworker (who was also a new recruit and was far worse off in terms of drunkenness) down the stairs to the ticket gates of one of the underground lines taking him back home – calling to guide him towards the right set of escalators and watching him descend out of sight – before trudging back up and straggling in the opposite direction to head to his own overground station—  
  
Which he arrived at, ten minutes later, its metal shutters down having released the last train.  
  
Akaashi sighed heavily – his stomach churned once in protest; he changed his breathing to one that was quiet and steady, making certain the feeling wouldn’t arise again. Thankfully the feeling subsisted.  
  
His home wasn’t so far he couldn’t walk, only four stops away and an hour and twenty minutes’ walk according to his map. At a brisk pace, usually on days when he felt like getting some exercise, it took an hour.  
  
Bearing in mind his current condition, he was looking at an hour and forty minutes, which would make it some time after two a.m. when he returned. There was the option of taking a taxi, and he eyed the long queue of at least twenty people—  
  
“Akaashi!”  
  
Akaashi turned round at the familiar voice, and adjusted his glasses to make sure that the man with a large duffle bag marching up to him matched the name that popped into his head, a man who would have stood out enough during the day for fans to flock around him, but at this drunken hour where people were too busy trying to get themselves home, he was just another (large) hindrance in their path.  
  
“Bokuto-san?”  
  
“I got you this!”  
  
Bokuto grabbed Akaashi’s hand and pressed something cold into his palm – a short brown bottle Akaashi had recently reacquainted himself with since entering his company and attending multiple after-work drinks.  
  
“I went to the izayaka to pick you up, but they’d already closed! So I came here hoping to catch you—” Bokuto glanced to the station. “Aw, we missed the last train too… c’mon let’s get walking! You can’t be feeling that bad if you’re still standing.”  
  
The decision was made for him as Bokuto started walking down the quieter road that ran alongside the tracks and the river. Akaashi caught up in three easy steps, Bokuto’s pace (deliberately) unhurried.  
  
Akaashi unscrewed the metal lid and downed the whole of the liquid in one go; an unpleasant medicinal aftertaste remained. “How did you know which izakaya to go to?” He was sure he had only told Bokuto he would be attending a welcome party, not to mention Bokuto wasn’t supposed to be here, having said he would be returning tomorrow.  
  
Today even. Later today. Akaashi frowned at himself and his current inability to think straight.  
  
“You told me! Wow, they must’ve really made you drink if you don’t remember.”  
  
Bokuto reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, and after a few swipes of his thumb held the phone out to him. Akaashi slipped the phone from his grasp and scrolled through the messages:

  
18:04 Good evening, Bokuto-san.  
18:04 This is a reminder to say I will be unavailable for our chat this evening, as I will be attending our company’s welcome party.  
  
18:37 Alright! Have fun!!  
  
22:26 Bokuto-san  
22:27 What time will you be arriving tomorrow?  
22:27 Also please don’t worry about buying a souvenir especially if it makes you late for your train  
22:31 I  
22:33 Am looking forward to seeing you  
  
23:42 Akaashi!!!!  
23:42 Where’s your party???

  
  


After that, Akaashi had sent the name of the izakaya where the afterparty had been held, then proceeded to add more ramblings on how he’d rather be at home.  
  
“I suppose that would explain it,” Akaashi said, returning the phone back to Bokuto, a little sobered by seeing evidence of his drunken state.  
  
Bokuto held up the white plastic bag he was carrying. “Think you’re up for finishing off the night with Onigiri Miya?”  
  
Akaashi straightened up at that name. “Bokuto-san, I’m offended you feel the need to ask.”  
  
Bokuto chuckled, and Akaashi realised he missed hearing the laugh reach his ears clearly and so full of humour instead of muffled and cracked through his phone’s receiver.  
  
Bokuto didn’t hand him the onigiri right away, instead handing Akaashi the hand wipe and then proceeding to pick at the wrapping of the triangular-shaped rice, peeling it partially off before handing that over too. Akaashi took it with a quiet ‘thank you’, his gaze still settled onto Bokuto now trying to find the opening to unwrap his own onigiri.  
  
It was strange how careful Bokuto had become. During high school Bokuto would just hand the onigiri over, wrapper and all, but more often than not it had been Akaashi who was the food bringer and unwrapper, handing the lunch over to Bokuto so he could wolf it down with large bites.  
  
Bokuto took a large bite that made at least a third of the onigiri disappear.  
  
Well, some things didn’t change.  
  
“This ginger pork one is so good!”  
  
Akaashi took a small bite of his own; the mild bitterness with an underlying sharp tang familiar to that of his favourite food had him looking down to study his meal.  
  
“What flavour is this?”  
  
“Your favourite!” Bokuto said proudly. “Samu-Samu asked what you liked, so I told him – he said he’s thinking of putting it onto the menu next winter! I said he should have it throughout the whole year, but he’s fussy about using what’s in season.”  
  
“I don’t expect anything less from a man who has dedicated himself to the culinary arts.” Akaashi took a larger bite of the onigiri that tasted of mustered-dressed rapini and chewed as though he hadn’t been eating the whole night. “I hope his Tokyo store opens soon,” he said, voice muffled. “It would be an instant hit.”  
  
“You mean an instant hit with you!”  
  
Akaashi swallowed. “I can’t imagine it not being an instant hit with anyone once they try it.”  
  
The quiet street intersected one wider – and flashier, and nosier – streams of neons running across and down buildings on both sides, cars still sweeping past at regular intervals, larger groups of people wandering up and down; they were nearing the next station.  
  
“I met Udai Tenma-san yesterday,” Akaashi began. He had been waiting until Bokuto was with him to break the news, to see Bokuto’s reaction firsthand.  
  
Bokuto turned to him, eyes wide. “What?! Why didn’t you say! Are you gonna be working with him? Wait until I tell Hinata—”  
  
“I wanted to see your reaction, and no – he was at the office meeting with his own editor. I ran into him in passing and introduced myself, relaying my background and my relationship to volleyball and the Black Jackals. I was both surprised and flattered to find he remembered some of my matches. He suggested that we watch the next Black Jackal match together.”  
  
“What about your relationship to me?” Bokuto asked with a nudge; it was likely meant as a friendly jab, but for a drunken Akaashi it pushed him off balance and sent him two steps off course.  
  
Akaashi threw him a look as he returned to Bokuto’s side. “Bokuto-san. Even your teammates aren’t aware of our relationship.”  
  
“Oh. Right. Yeah! Yeah – you’re right!” Bokuto laughed, the sound a little strained and quite loud for such an early hour.  
  
Akaashi slowed his steps. “…Bokuto-san?”  
  
Bokuto glanced to Akaashi and then to the road ahead – and a few more glances back and forth and he was stepping in front of him, continuing to walk backwards as he waved his arms. “I’m sorry! Tsum-Tsum came up to me and asked me what the deal was with you, and Hinata and Sakusa – and actually everyone – happened to be there, and obviously if Tsum-Tsum knows, Samu-Samu knows, and – well, Konoha knows cause he asked at last year’s reunion just after you left – oh, so I guess the rest of the old team… and I kind of told Kuroo literally on the day you said yes—”  
  
To be fair on Bokuto, Akaashi knew about their old team and Kuroo (and Kozume, because he himself had been the one to break the news to him), and also knew their relationship wouldn’t remain unnoticed among their other friends and teammates, especially since they had been sharing a place since Akaashi started university – though it had taken over three more years before they both confessed what they meant to each other. He was more surprised they were considerate enough to go along with the pretence that they had no idea what was going on whenever they were around Akaashi.  
  
Bokuto continued to reel off excuses and Akaashi picked up his pace to sweep past him. “I suppose it’s time we properly announced our status to our friends. But I think I’ll wait a while longer before telling Udai-san.”  
  
Bokuto fell into step next to him. Akaashi chewed slowly on his last morsel, savouring the taste. He wished Osamu would at least start online orders. Though even if he did, he would probably limit deliveries to Kansai.  
  
“Do you want another one?” The air crackled with the plastic as Bokuto opened the bag.  
  
“No, thank you. I think I’ll save it for breakfast.”  
  
Akaashi stuffed the empty bottle and wrapper into his coat pocket and readjusted his bag, shifting its weight to one that spread more evenly across his back. He rubbed his hands, skin still coarse from the lingering winter air, which stubbornly refused to fully release the seasonal mantle to spring.  
  
“I thought you’d be returning tomorrow,” Akaashi said. It came out a touch quieter than he imagined.  
  
“That was the plan, but we managed to finish early and I got the green light from Coach to leave – I took the earliest train I could!”  
  
Akaashi smiled at the image of Bokuto bounding up to his coach and making his request so loudly it made everyone else pause to watch with a knowing look on their faces as to why.  
  
Cool fingers wrapped around Akaashi’s left hand, threading themselves in the gaps of his.  
  
Akaashi looked to Bokuto as he drew their entangled hands lower to hang loose between them. “Bokuto-san—”  
  
Bokuto tightened his grip as an answer to his unspoken caution. “It’s one a.m., Akaashi, no one’s going to see or care. And even if someone did spot us and cared, I don’t care. And if I don’t care then you definitely shouldn’t care, because I know you only care about how it might affect me.”  
  
Bokuto looked down onto him, his radiant smile glowing softer than usual as they stepped into the orange pool of light pouring from the lamppost; soon they entered another stretch of darkness between posts. Something about seeing the shadows obscure his face made Akaashi think that even if he weren’t able to see Bokuto’s smile, either partially from lack of light or completely from distance, Bokuto would always be casting a smile in his direction, at the very least from his heart.  
  
And now his drunkenness was making him sentimental.  
  
Akaashi averted his gaze to stare at the charcoal pavement. There had always been enough going on in his life to keep his mind preoccupied. This had been true while he studied at university, and it was true now while working his new job – more so now because he was an adult, a newly crowned, respectable member of society, as was evident by his increased burden of grinding hours and unforgiving rules and new relations that hooked into him, tugging him left, right, and centre.  
  
He had no regrets in choosing this path (though he still had his heart set on working in the literary department in the future).  
  
Still, there was the occasional off day, a particularly gruelling day of fumbling with new tasks because he had yet to get to grips with the order in which things should be done, where details slipped by because he had been focusing on the wrong thing. On those days he thought of Bokuto’s encouragements and the manner in which he would react to tough situations.  
  
And among those days there would always be one where even that wasn’t enough.  
  
“I missed you.”  
  
His inhibitions were loose, from the alcohol and the false impression that being in the dark would conceal his embarrassment. But even if he had been sober, he was sure he would still have said it out loud. They were long past holding emotions back from each other.  
  
Bokuto reappeared in his path again, this time a block to force him to stop. His pulled his hand away, brought both hands up to cup the sides of Akaashi’s face, their touches a balm on his hot skin.  
  
“You always complain your eyes are getting worse, but you only strain them more if you wear these when you don’t need to.” Bokuto gently slipped off his glasses and Akaashi blinked to adjust his eyes to a world not seen through a screen.  
  
Akaashi had forgotten he was still wearing them. His declining vision (at least for distant objects, he had no need for them while he worked) wasn’t so bad that he had to wear them constantly, although he was aware his surroundings gradually grew hazy around the edges, and features of anyone walking outside the range of his clear visual field blurred to turn them faceless; he supposed it had been all those hours craning his neck over text, during the long nights studying and relaxing afternoons reading. While he refrained from putting them on unless absolutely necessary, today he had been attending a presentation, and as he had been seated towards the back of the room he had worn them to see the projected screen. Other instances where he would wear them were at lectures or concerts, and when they decided to drive out of the busy city to take a short break at a place calmer.  
  
And it went without saying he wore them when he watched volleyball live.  
  
“I suppose they’re not required when you’re standing here before me.”  
  
Bokuto grinned. And with that, he leaned in to press his lips gently onto Akaashi’s.  
  
It sent tingles throughout his body, to the tips of his fingers that made his hands shake, to the centre of the dull pummelling in his chest so it doubled its time. The alcohol was to blame, Akaashi was sure of it, and he would have written it off as such if his fingers weren’t curling tight, nails scraping the synthetic material of Bokuto’s jacket, and if his tongue wasn’t pushing its way into Bokuto’s hot mouth that tasted faintly of soy sauce and ginger.  
  
Bokuto was the first to withdraw, wordlessly watching Akaashi with an expression that made Akaashi’s chest swell, and then he was folding the glasses, keeping ahold of them in one hand while taking Akaashi’s hand in the other.  
  
“I missed you too, Akaashi.” Bokuto leaned in again and placed a small kiss on his forehead. “Now, let’s go home.”


End file.
